


Between the Lines of Fear and Blame

by notquitepunkrock



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Bob is an Asshole, Bob's dad is an even bigger asshole, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicidal actions, Triggers, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-27 12:56:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6285349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notquitepunkrock/pseuds/notquitepunkrock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank was just trying to make things better, but they ended up so much worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between the Lines of Fear and Blame

**Author's Note:**

> HEY TRIGGER WARNING: plz look at the tags and be warned that this involves a lot of trigger-y material. Please be safe and know your limits. 
> 
> Okay, so this is some sad shit. I hate the ending, but if I didn't end it where I did, it would have just kept going until it was about thirty pages long, and I don't think anyone wanted that.
> 
> This is based on real-life events, though a lot of things have been changed for the sake of fiction. I needed to vent, because it's been a year and I'm still not okay.
> 
> Title from 'How to Save a Life' by The Fray

In the future, he was sure that day wouldn’t be The Worst Day of His Life anymore, but it had seemed like it then, and it still seemed like it now, a little more than two years later. 

And it hadn’t so much been a day, as a culmination of all the anger that all their friends had shared. It wasn’t Frank’s fault, not at all, but he felt like he was the one entirely responsible. Him and only him, and he had  inadvertently caused Mikey and Ray and Gerard to get involved. It should have just been between him and Bob (and apparently, Bob’s father, but he’d get to that.)

It had started when Bob had started hanging out with some… unpleasant people over the summer, and met a girl, Brandi, that he liked a lot. And that was cool, because whatever, girls are things that some people are into (just not Frank). Brandi was a little bit annoying though, and she clung to Bob far, far too much; the worst part was, Bob clung back. 

It wasn’t too bad during the summer, seeing as they weren’t around each other all the time anyway - if anything, they would just hang out without Bob around. But once ninth grade started, it was hell.

Brandi was all over Bob. They would make out at the lunch table with no regards to the fact that Frank was  _ trying to eat, God dammit.  _ Bob’s father drove Frank home every day after school, and Frank had to hear  _ all  _ about Brandi while they waited for him to show up in the parking lot. (This could take as long as thirty minutes or an hour, depending on when Mr. Bryar took his break, which meant Frank heard far too much about Bob’s semblance of a sex-life.)

One of those days, Frank got tired of it. When he brought it up to the others, he was stressed out and exhausted, and honestly, he didn’t even really want to be alive right then, so dealing with the fact that Bob was slowly pulling away from their close-knit group to be with a  _ girl  _ (something they had all sworn they’d never do) was driving him insane.

“I just want them to stop,” he said, and yes, okay, he was whining. He was only fourteen, though, dammit, and he was a freshmen - or fresh-meat as the older students would tease - and he was allowed to be childish sometimes, okay?

Gerard smiled at him sympathetically as he doodled on his jeans, too lazy to get up and find a sketchbook of some sort. “It’s really annoying, isn’t it?” he mused softly, coloring in something that Frank couldn’t really see.

Mikey hummed in agreement, frowning at the wall above Frank’s head. “I feel like Bob doesn’t even care about us anymore,” he admitted. “It’s all about Brandi - and okay, she’s his girlfriend, but are you fucking  _ serious?  _ I didn’t even know the dude had feelings until she showed up.”

“Says the fucking robot,” Ray teased from his seat on the bed, looking almost like he was presiding over a royal court. Mikey flipped him off, but Frank could see the smile the tall boy was hiding beneath his usual poker face.

“Someone’s gotta talk to him,” Gerard said after a long moment of silence. He looked around the room, raising his eyebrows at his friends. “Because, honestly, he’s becoming a dickwad and he wasn’t this bad before  _ Brandi  _ came around. I don’t know how much longer I can stick around if he’s gonna keep being this way.” 

They chuckled at the way he said Brandi’s name, spitting it out as if it were poisonous, and scrunching up his nose like the word left a bitter taste in his mouth. Frank knew, however, it would be his duty to talk to Bob - he was the only one who would have any form of time alone with the asshole, seeing as he was normally… preoccupied.

* * *

 

Frank didn’t get a chance to talk to Bob in person. He was going to do it the Monday after the talk with the guys, but Mr. Bryar picked them up shortly after the final bell rang for once. Tuesday, Brandi was there, hanging all over him as per usual, and Bob wasn’t even trying to hide the way his hand was groping her ass from the back pocket of her jeans - though, she wasn’t hiding her bedroom eyes and bitten lips, so Frank was just thoroughly disgusted. Wednesday, Frank chickened out before he could say anything, letting the other boy fall comfortably into his usual fuckboy-esque monologue.

Thursday, Mikey decided that Frank had waited long enough. “Dude, you’re clearly not in a good place right now, and I respect that, but you said you were going to talk to him,” he grumbled at Frank as they headed to their fifth period after another vomit-inducing lunch. “For the record, Brandi’s friends are very done with this shit too - she’s ditched them to basically fuck Bob at lunch every day since school started. ‘Parently she’s even more obsessed than Bob is.”

Frank side-eyed him, raising an eyebrow. “How do you know this?” he asked.

Mikey smirked, doing an odd little finger-wave at a pair of girls they passed, girls who Frank recognized as Brandi’s supposed best friends. “Roberta and Nicole were surprisingly quick to bitch about her,” he replied once the passed, nodding the direction the girls had disappeared in. “But seriously, talk to him. Please.”

Frank frowned. “I thought normal guys don’t talk about their feelings,” he complained, his last effort to pass the responsibility on to someone else. 

“Good thing we aren’t normal guys,” Mikey said with an eye-roll, and unfortunately, Frank couldn’t disagree. Well, there went that idea.

He absolutely couldn’t do it in person, so that night, he opened up his mostly-unused kik and sent Bob a message. 

_ fronk: we need to talk _

_ bbryar: lol wut? _

_ bbryar: u breakin up wit me? _

Frank rolled his eyes, and just barely resisted replying back with massive amounts of sass.

_ fronk: ur being an ass lately _

_ fronk: and ur too obsessed with brandi, its gross and unhealthy and we dont like it _

_ fronk: and if you dont change soon, ur going to have no one left, because we’re all at the end of our ropes. we cant take this anymore, bob _

He held his breath, anxiously waiting for Bob to reply. It was taking a while, so he opened up Tumblr on his laptop to occupy him while he waited. 

Eventually, his phone chimed the slightly unfamiliar kik notification sound, and he picked it up with shaking hands.

_ bbryar: wtf since when do u care? Brandi makes me fking happy, wich u guys dont seem to care about anymore bt whtevr. ur just jealus bc i can find a girl who wants 2 fuck me and u cant. u guys wanna leave? fine b my geust i dont need u.  _

_ fronk: we will if we have to. also, two words: i’m gay _

_ bbryar: uhhuh sure. whtevr _

_ bbryar: i thot u were the nice one frank i cant bleve ud do this. and u’ve smehow got them on ur side wtf i thot we were frnds - best frinds. _

_ bbryar: ur a backstabbing ass - kys, no1 will care _

_ fronk: I didn’t mean it to hurt u. I genuinely care about u and I don’t like who you’ve bcome bc of her. Im sorry. Please forget i said anything please please please _

_ fronk: bob? we’re still friends, right? _

_ bbryar: lol stop crying bjtch i didnt mean it _

_ bbryar: fckin baby cant even take a joke jfc _

_ bbryar: but ill try - only so u dont cry about it _

_ fronk: Thank youuuu _

_ bbryar: whtevr. g2g, Brandi jsut got here ;) _

_ fronk: ewwwwwww _

_ bbryar: ur such a baby lololol _

Frank set down his phone, wiping a few tears away with the back of his hand. Was Bob really joking? Who joked about that - telling people to kill themselves? It was like he hadn’t been around long enough to know that they had a rule to never,  _ ever,  _ joke about that kind of stuff. He was tempted to call Mikey or Ray, but he didn’t want to bother them. Still, he found his phone back in his palm, thumb hovering over Gerard’s contact…

“Hello?” Gerard sounded tired, but then, he always did. Ray and Gee were juniors, and they swore up and down it was the worst year of high school - definitely the hardest. (Though, Frank thought his freshman year would give them a run for their money.)

“G-Gee?” he said, hating the way his voice cracked.

There was a rustle of papers that told Frank he had either interrupted Gerard either while doing homework or drawing. He hoped it was the former, but he knew that it was probably the latter, which made him feel guilty. “Frankie-baby, you okay?”

“Y-yeah… I talked to Bob,” he managed, before a sob snuck up on him and out of his mouth.

“Shit, what happened?” Gerard asked, sounding worried and a little bit mad - Frank knew the anger was directed at Bob, not him, but he still cringed at the tone.

He heard Mikey in the background, as he was probably hanging out in Gerard’s basement and watching a movie on his television, like he always did. “That Frank? What’s wrong?” 

Gerard’s voice was muffled, his hand over the speaker and his phone away from his ear. “He talked to Bob, and I don’t think it went well.”

“Shit, put it on speaker!” 

“H-Hold on,” Frank piped up, pulling the phone away from his ear as he wiped his eyes. “I’ll add Ray to the call.” He didn’t want to do it, but the thought of explaining the whole thing twice made his stomach flip and twist with anxiety.

Once Ray was on the phone, Frank took a deep breath, wiped away some more of his tears, and launched into his story. When he finished, the other end of the phone was silent, and he could feel the anxiety building in his throat. Gerard was the first to speak.

“He said  _ what? _ ” he hissed, anger dripping from each word. Frank knew what he was talking about, but he didn’t want to say it again. “Frank, tell me he didn’t tell you… that.”

Frank choked back a sob, but he couldn’t speak. It wasn’t like he could tell his friend what he wanted to hear. He hadn’t lied about what Bob had said. Honestly, he was still in shock himself. 

“That  _ asshole, _ ” Gerard hissed after a few minutes of silence, save for Frank’s sobs and a few sniffles from kindhearted Ray. “This needs to stop. That’s… that isn’t okay. Don’t… don’t do that, Frankie, okay? Promise us you won’t do anything stupid.”

“I-I promise,” Frank sniffed. He heard his mother’s footsteps nearing his door, and he hurried to wipe the tears from his cheeks and eyes. She poked her head in the door and raised her eyebrows, the look on her face clearly saying he needed to go to sleep soon. “I’ve gotta go, see you tomorrow.”

“Wait, Frank, no-” Ray started, but Frank was already ending the call. He turned off his phone and leaned over to plug it into the wall, knowing full well he would be getting a lot of crap for that when he saw his friends at school. Somehow he couldn’t bring himself to care, and when he flicked off the light and crawled into bed, all he could think about was wanting to die.

* * *

 

“We’re going to ignore Bob today,” Mikey said, subtly eyeing his arm as they waited for science to start the next Monday. “You’ve been okay the past few days, right?”

Frank shifted his multitude of bracelets to hide the few scars and cuts on his arm. “Why are we ignoring Bob?” he asked, not answering Mikey’s question. He hadn’t been okay, had actually gotten out of bed every night and tried to cut away all the pain and hurt and just feel better for once since this had all started. But Mikey didn’t need to know that.

“He needs to know we aren’t going to put up with this shit anymore. He honestly probably won’t even notice - too obsessed with Brandi.” Something about the plan didn’t sit right with Frank, but he nodded. He didn’t want to lose his friends too, and who knows - that could be what would happen if he didn’t agree. (Deep down, he knew they wouldn’t leave him for something so small, but the thought was nibbling at the back of his mind and it was almost paralyzing.)

Frank went along with the plan, sitting silently beside Bob in their one shared class and not saying a word to him during lunch - not that it was particularly unusual. He promised himself he would talk to the boy while they waited for their ride after school, but the universe seemed to be against him that day.

Mr. Bryar was waiting for them in an empty parking space when they arrived, so Frank didn’t get a chance to say a word to the taller boy before they climbed into the car. They buckled their seatbelts in silence, shoving their bags between their knees like always. Mr. Bryar started the car, then looked at Bob in the rearview mirror.

“Have you spoken yet?” he asked, his voice oddly bright. Bob shook his head, and Mr. Bryar’s smile dropped. He placed one hand on the back of the passenger seat, turning to look at Frank, who sat behind it. 

“You need to talk to my son.” His voice was deadly calm. Frank was suddenly terrified. He felt his heart crawl its way into his throat, settling there and keeping the air from reaching his lungs. “Tell him what the Hell is going on. Right. Now.”

Frank swallowed, but it seemed his heart was still lodged in his esophagus, just above his vocal cords. It took everything in him to find his voice again. “E-Everyone is-”

“I don’t want to hear about what  _ everyone  _ thinks,” Mr. Bryar hissed, his eyes narrowing as he pulled out of the parking space. “I want to hear about what  _ Frank Iero  _ thinks.” 

“I-I don’t… We… I just… Bob’s been spending all his time with Brandi and he’s… he’s stopped being a good friend and a good person, and we’re -  _ I’m  _ so tired of it,” Frank started out choking on the words, but his words soon built momentum until they were spilling from his mouth like a waterfall, and he wasn’t sure he could stop them.

“You know what you did?” Mr. Bryar cut him off finally, his words icy, anger growing with each biting sentence. “You turned his friends against him, and Brandi’s against her. You said this was a ‘problem’ that needed to be fixed. That’s bullying, Frank.  _ Bullying.  _ I’d think that you, of all people, wouldn’t do that.”

“I- I didn’t… I wouldn’t-” Frank could feel his chest constricting, could feel the way his breath was being squeezed from his lungs. His hand reached for the handle of the car.  _ Out, out, out, he had to get out of there, who the fuck cares if they’re on the busiest street in town, he just needs out, if Mr. Bryar would just stop the fucking car. Death would be better than this Hell, why can’t he get out, maybe he could just kill himself and give them both what they want. _

While Frank was sobbing into his hands, covering his face and forcing breath in and out of uncooperative lungs, Bob’s father was yelling, ranting about how Frank was an awful person and an awful friend, telling him just how much he hurt Bob and Brandi. He kept glaring over his shoulder, eyes blazing. 

“You can stop that, Frank,” he shouted, making Frank curl further into himself as he sobbed, hands damp from his own tears. “I know you’re faking it. I’m not sympathetic to you, because you don’t deserve sympathy.”

Frank was seriously terrified of the man driving, who was so much stronger and bigger than he was. Mr. Bryar lifted his hand, and he cowered away against the door, raising his elbows to help block the blows that never came but seemed to be perpetually on the way. 

They finally pulled into his driveway, and Frank forced his hands to move from his face and spilled from the car with a sob. Bob was staring straight ahead, not looking at him, just as he hadn’t been looking at him the entire trip to Frank’s house. It was better this way, he decided, stumbling up the steps after Mr. Bryar all but threw his bag out of the car after him. “Stay away from my son,” he yelled out the rolled down window, nearly hitting Frank as he backed from the driveway. 

Frank stumbled up the front porch, dropping to his knees to dig through his bag for a key. The sobs he had been trying to contain before wracked his body, and that coupled with the panic attack he was currently fighting, made it hard to think or stand or walk. Soon, he discovered his keys and their stupid myriad of keychains, made by him and Ray and Mikey and Gee when they were younger, weren’t in his bag, probably still on the table. Just like they were everyday, because he always seemed to forget the damned things, and he didn’t even have his phone to call for help, because it was having trouble charging the previous night.

A quick stumble to the planter on the back porch in search of a spare key proved fruitless, and he returned to the front door empty handed and desperate. The glasses on his face (he had run out of contacts) were flung off, thrown against the wall in frustration. The bridge snapped, and he let loose a distraught sob, collapsing again to his knees to stare at what seemed to be the final worst thing that could have happened at that moment. Only one thought remained on his mind. “ _ I want to die.” _

Mr. Bryar’s car sped up the street, going much faster than the twenty-five miles per hour speed limit would allow. He clearly slammed on the brakes, and shouted out his window. “Do you need a key?”

Frank nodded weakly, scrambling to wipe off his face - snot had joined salty tears to make him look ever more unkempt - and gather his things. Mr. Bryar stormed up the stairs, and unlocked the door, practically shoving the small boy into the house. 

“I won’t be needing this, anymore,” he hissed, slapping the key into Frank’s outstretched hand. Frank winced as he felt the cold metal biting into his skin. Mr. Bryar slammed the door behind him, with a force that shook the house. Frank was alone.

* * *

 

He screamed.

He screamed into his hands staring blankly at the wall in hurt and anger and fear and frustration. He paced through the house, mind racing, feet pounding on the hardwood floors. He wondered if the neighbors could hear, if they would call the cops. 

“Might as well give them something to find,” he decided, throwing open the door to his bedroom. He paged through a worn notebook that was falling apart at spiraled binding until he found an old, prewritten note that suited his fancy. Ripping it free was satisfying, and he taped it to the wall above his desk where his mother would be sure to find it. 

Next, he pulled out his laptop, turning the thing on with shaky fingers. While he waited for it to set itself up, he dug through his drawers, finally happening upon the kit of blades and medical supplies hidden underneath his sweaters. 

When he turned back to the computer, it was whirring away, awaiting its next command. Frank logged onto Facebook, and began typing hastily written messages to Mikey, Gerard, and Ray. He was well aware that Gerard had detention for falling asleep in US History, and Ray had a date with his girlfriend from another school, Christa. Only Mikey would get the message, and Mikey hardly ever checked his Facebook messages. They wouldn’t be receiving these until it was far too late.

* * *

 

**_Conversation with Mikey Way_ **

**_Frank Iero:_ ** _ I hate me. I’m such a bad person. I want to die. I hurt him, I hurt Bob, its all my fault. Why did I do that. I didnt meant to. I was gonna make it better. I wasnt trying to. I want t o die. _

**_Frank Iero:_ ** _ I think I’m gonna die. I deserve to die. Plz don’t hate me Mikey. Youre my best friend and I wouldnt trade u for the world. Thank u for everything. _

 

**_Conversation with Gerard Way_ **

**_Frank Iero:_ ** _ This is all my fault. Everything with Bob. I’m so sorry for this. Good bye, Gerard.  _

 

**_Conversation with Ray Toro_ **

**_Frank Iero:_ ** _ I’m sorry. _

**_Ray Toro:_ ** _ for what? _

**_Frank Iero:_ ** _ I want to die _

**_Ray Toro:_ ** _ what?? Why?? You were doing so much better!  _

**_Frank Iero:_ ** _ I fucked up. I hurt Bob. Fuck I want to die.  _

**_Frank Iero:_ ** _ Bye, Ray. You’re a good friend and an amazing person. Thank u for everything _

* * *

 

Frank cursed as he swiped the blade across his arm. Ray wasn’t supposed to get that yet. He was supposed to be busy on his date. Now his entire plan was fucked up, and he wasn’t entirely sure what to do next. 

Frank slashed horizontally across his forearm, watching the crimson color bubble up to the surface. He knew he should be cutting from his wrist to his elbow, but he didn’t want to do that, not yet. Soon enough, there were several deep cuts bleeding more than he had ever seen a cut bleed on his forearm. 

The sight of the cuts on his arm, the crimson blood a stark contrast with his pale skin made him want to throw up. Suddenly, Frank didn’t want to die anymore. In desperation, he ripped off his shirt and ran to the bathroom, turning on the shower and shoving his arm under the water, which was so cold it set his teeth on edge. The blood and water ran from his fingers, slowly becoming less and less red, and more and more clear. Once the water ran clear, he pulled his arm out, now numb from the cold. 

Frank had just put bandages on each of the cuts lining his arm and pulled his long-sleeved shirt back over his head when he heard the garage door slam open. His mother barreled through the house to his room, where he was sitting on the bed, tears still running freely down his face. She took one look at him, then crushed him into a hug, pressing kisses to the top of his head.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” she whispered, sitting beside him and pulling Frank into her lap. “I’m so sorry. Bob’s father called and we… we had words. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know that was going to happen.” Frank felt very small as he curled up in his mother’s lap, crying into her shirt. 

“Momma, I wanna die,” he whispered. “I tried to kill myself, but I got too scared.”

His mother choked on a sob, and pressed a kiss into his head. “Oh Frankie, honey, we have to take you to a hospital,” she muttered, smoothing down his hair. Frank shook his head quickly, pressing his face even further against her shoulder. 

“I didn’t do it, I’m fine, just please don’t make me go to school, please,” he begged.

Linda Iero frowned, hand moving to rub her son’s back soothingly. “Just go tomorrow, okay?” she conceded. “Get your work, tell your teachers you’re not going to be there, and then you can stay home until break is over. Just walk home with Ray or the Ways, because I can’t get off work early two days in a row. Okay, honey?”

Frank nodded slowly, his hands slowly letting go of his mother’s shirt. He didn’t know how he was going to get through the next day. Not if Bob was there. His laptop chimed cheerily, and he remembered the messages to his friends.  _ Oh no. _

His mother stood up to get Frank some water and call his doctor about therapists in the area. The moment the door closed behind her, he dove for his laptop. He sat silently for a moment, staring at Mikey, Ray and Gerard’s frantic replies to his last messages.

* * *

 

**_Conversation with Mikey Way, Gerard Way, and Ray Toro_ **

**_Frank Iero:_ ** _ Im fine. See u guys tomorrow. Gotta walk home tho.  _

**_Mikey Way:_ ** _ What why???? Want me 2 walk w/ u??? _

**_Frank Iero:_ ** _ shit went down dont wanna talk about it. sure u can. _

**_Ray Toro:_ ** _ Frank, srsly, are you okay. You weren’t okay like an hour ago. _

**_Gerard Way:_ ** _ if u arent completely intact 2morro im gonna kick ur ass u scared me to death _

**_Frank Iero:_ ** _ its been a long day guys im going to bed night _

**_Ray Toro:_ ** _ Frank no _

**_Mikey Way:_ ** _ Shit frnk wait! _

**_Gerard Way:_ ** _ fuck iero dont leave wait we need to talk about this _

* * *

 

Frank trudged into the school, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. His backpack hung off of his shoulder, gravity attempting to pull it to the ground. His mother had assured him that if school was too much, he was to call her and she’d attempt to get him early. He knew that it wouldn’t work out, however. She was just too busy to leave work at the moment.

“Hey. Frankie, you okay?” Gerard asked, appearing on his left from seemingly nowhere. Mikey pressed against his right side, glaring 

slightly at anyone who dared to look at the trio even a little bit wrong.

“‘M fine, Gee,” he mumbled, hair falling into his eyes. “Tired, s’all.” He could practically feel the Way brothers glancing at each other over his head, looks of concern in their eyes. He  _ was  _ fine though. He didn’t need their sympathy.

The day felt too long, and Frank almost felt like he couldn’t breathe every time he stepped in the chaos of the hallways between each class. His hands shook each time he had to tell a teacher he wasn’t going to be in school for the next couple of weeks, that he was going to miss exams. Thankfully, none of them enquired as to  _ why _ he was going to be missing so much school, and Bob wasn’t at school that day. (Frank wasn’t sure why, but it made it a little easier to breathe in fourth period.)

Frank was sure that no one would talk about the night before until lunch. Ray got to their table behind the gym right after he did, as always, about five minutes before the brothers and their few other friends appeared. When he did, he sat next to Frank, as always, and grabbed his wrist.

“Let me see,” he muttered, eyes searching Frank’s. He waited until the younger boy nodded in consent before pushing up the sleeves of his black hoodie, but once he had, he sucked in a sharp breath. “Holy shit, Frank, this is bad.”

“I know,” he mumbled, eyes cast down at the table in front of him. Ray released his arm, and he shook his sleeves back down so they covered his hands again. He covered his face for a moment. “I’m sorry.”

Ray bit his lip, glancing towards the corner that Mikey and his friend, Pete, were due to walk around any minute. “Don’t apologize,” he muttered back, squeezing Frank’s shoulder lightly before turning to his pizza. Just in time, as the two boys appeared in front of them, sliding onto the bench to the right of Frank with just enough room left for Gerard. 

The other boys seemed to be overly cautious around him, even Pete who wasn’t involved in or aware of the drama. Halfway through lunch, though, he excused himself to find his other friends, leaving Frank alone with the Ways and Ray. He stayed silent as they talked amongst each other, letting his hair fall into his face.

Frank fought through two more classes, twisting his hands into the loose fabric of his shirt and hoodie each time they began to shake. When the release bell finally rang, he was quick to shove his earbuds into his ears and duck his head on the way to his locker.

His plan to get out of the school before Mikey met him at his locker was quickly ruined. Mikey’s skinny, tall frame leaned against the locker beside Frank’s, crossing his arms over his chest. “You ready?” he asked, eyebrows peering down at the smaller boy from behind his glasses. Frank sighed, tugging his earbuds from his head and looking back up at his friend. 

“I guess,” he conceded, closing his locker’s door perhaps a  _ little  _ too hard. Mikey nodded, pushing himself away from the wall and following Frank to the stairs. 

“Gee’s gonna meet us at the gas station,” he informed the younger boy, sending a cheeky smile at a passing girl. “By the way, Roberta and Nicole said they hope you’re okay, and they aren’t going to hang out with Brandi much, anymore. Apparently she called you a whiny ass behind your back to Nicole and Ray, and they decided that was the last straw.”

Frank smiled weakly at the younger Way, though he didn’t bother to reply. Mikey seemed to take this opportunity to fill the silence with uncharacteristic chatter, that he couldn’t bring himself to pay attention to. To be honest, he couldn’t really care less about Brandi’s (now ex) best friends and whatever they had to say.

They met with Gerard and started towards Frank’s house. The brothers tried to get him to talk at first, but he stubbornly kept his head ducked and his eyes locked on the dirty toes of his converse. He could tell they were uncomfortable with this. Mikey was normally happy to keep his mouth shut and let his brother talk, but today, he was chattering away while Gerard stayed silent, eyes locked on Frank’s hunched form. Then again, Frank was being uncharacteristically silent himself, instead of running ahead of them and cracking jokes.

They reached Frank’s house, and he expected to be left alone. However, Gerard followed him up through the door, nodding at Mikey as he shut it behind him. Frank jumped when he turned around from hanging up his hoodie, and saw the older boy standing behind him with a small smile on his face. He hurried to cross his arms over his chest, backing up to the wall.

“Gerard!” he gasped, ignoring the way his heart began to pound in his chest, because he wasn’t wearing a jacket, and that meant the Gee could  _ find out. _ “What are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d hang out with you until your mom gets home,” he replied cautiously, gently pushing his way into the house. Frank followed him, slowly letting his arms fall to his sides. He supposed that there was no way that Gee wouldn’t figure it out now - he couldn’t justify putting his hoodie on when he had just taken it off, and the marks from the previous night were red and angry against his pale skin. 

“You want something to eat?” he asked, wandering to the kitchen and busying himself with rummaging through his pantry. He paused long enough to look towards Gerard, who was hovering in the living room and inspecting the pictures that hung on the wall. They were old, from when Frank was little and his dad was still around sometimes. The older boy had never actually seen them, as when they were younger he didn’t care, and as they got older, the boys would quickly retreat to the kitchen or Frank’s room and wouldn’t stop long enough to look at a bunch of old photographs.

“I’m good,” Gerard called back, leaning in closer to one of the frames. “Hey, I remember this day.”

Frank was going to ignore him, and go back to his search for food, but his curiosity got the better of him. He joined his friend’s side, looking at the photo he was so interested in. It was from when he and Mikey were eight, and Gerard and Ray were ten, and Frank’s parents had taken them all to the beach. He remembered squeezing into the backseat of his parents’ car with the three other boys pretty clearly. He and Mikey were the smallest, as Mikey hadn’t yet hit a growth spurt that would make him shoot up to so much taller than the others, and had to share the middle seat. (‘Riding bitch,’ as his father had called it. This earned him a gentle slap from Linda, who had hissed at him to ‘not use that fuckin’ language around the kids, Frank!’) 

The picture itself was of Mikey and Frank building a sand castle. Ray stood in the background, holding some of his chips up for a seagull to eat, and Gerard was watching his friends from near the ocean’s edge, munching on a hotdog. 

“Yeah, that was a good day,” he smiled, leaning forward to peer closer at the picture. He reached up to point at Ray, forgetting all the marks that covered his forearms. “Remember right after, when all the gulls started chasing Toro for foo-”

He cut himself off when he looked up, and saw that Gerard was staring at his arms, hardly listening to his story. Frank sucked in a frightened breath, and dropped his hand, stepping away. “Shit, fuck,” he hissed, backing away slightly from Gerard and his wide eyes.

“Frankie? Frankie, shit, Frankie,” he mumbled, reaching out and grabbing Frank’s wrist. He pulled the younger boy closer, inspecting the red marks lining his skin. “Holy fuck, Frank, I didn’t know… was this the first time?”

Frank swallowed hard, shaking his head. He couldn’t breathe - Gerard had just discovered his biggest secret. The only one who knew was Ray, and that was because the other boy had seen when he was young and didn’t really know how to hide them. “I’m sorry, Gee, I’m so sorry.”

Gerard cursed under his breath, pulling him into a hug. “I wish I had known, I could have helped,” he said softly, burying his face in Frank’s shoulder. Frank’s face was pressed into the older boy’s chest, but he didn’t mind. The familiar scent of stale cigarettes and soap helped calm him down.

Gerard pulled away, and the calm feeling was gone as soon as it had come. Gerard mentioned something about going to Ray’s, and he nodded, not caring about what it meant. He felt like all of the air had been squeezed from his lungs, like someone had him wrapped in a death grip and was refusing to let go. Gee ushered him out the door without letting him grab his hoodie, and he followed silently as the older boy spoke quickly, urgently, on the walk to Ray’s house. 

They were almost there, when Frank stopped. Gerard stopped with him, waiting, but he kept talking. His hands flapped about in a way that Frank didn’t understand, but Mikey would, and as his best friend talked and cars drove by and the wind rushed past his ears it was all too much and he felt like he was going to scream if it didn’t stop. So he did the only thing he could think of to shut Gerard up. 

Frank grabbed Gee’s face between his small, pale hands, and kissed him.

It wasn’t a gentle kiss by any means. It was desperate and frantic, all teeth and pressure and tongues, his hands dropping to fist in the older boy’s shirt. When he finally pulled away, his head was clear for just long enough to think,  _ ‘Holy shit, I kissed Gerard.’  _ And while it was something he had been wanting to do for a while, he never meant it to happen like this. Not when he was upset and anxious - so he did the only thing he could think of doing. He turned on his heels and ran home.

Frank didn’t hear the sound of Gerard calling for him to come back, too busy screaming at himself in his mind for screwing this up so badly. 

For the next two weeks, Frank stayed holed up in his home alone, not responding to anything that any of his friends - Ray, Mikey, Pete, Patrick, Jack, and especially not Gerard - sent him. He was alone, he was sad, and he just wanted to die.

A few days after the start of break (for everyone else, anyway), Frank was dragged from the comfort of his room to his grandmother’s house. His mother smiled sadly as she held out an ugly Christmas sweater for him to wear - a tradition for Christmas Eve dinner at Nonna’s. When he had stuffed his arms into it, they headed for her house, over an hour away and filled with people he really didn’t want to spend any time with.

The thing about his Nonna’s Christmas Eve dinner was that it was actually his father’s family, and not his mother’s. It was the one time a year that he saw most of them, including, most years, his father. And though, he loved that side of his family, usually, his mother’s family was around a lot more - and was a lot smaller. But he wouldn’t be having dinner with that side of his family until Christmas Day, so here he was, feeling awkward and small and alone.

Another thing about Nonna’s was that Gerard and Mikey’s grandparents lived down the street and if there was one thing he didn’t want, it was to see them. Not because he didn’t like them, or anything, but because he had no clue what he’d say or how he’d act around them. Just the thought made his stomach tie itself into knots.

Once Frank and his mother made it to his Nonna’s house, he was surrounded by aunts and uncles and cousins, and all he really wanted was to find the dog and hide with it in his dad’s old room. He gave his dad a hug, and then went searching because nothing made him feel safer than a dog. Maybe he could talk his mom into getting him one.

On his way to the kitchen, where Nonna was cooking and yelling something to his grandfather, and where the dog was sure to be hiding, he saw his mother pulling his father aside and he knew what she was going to tell him. (Because the best time to tell your ex-husband that his son is suicidal and depressed and socially anxious is definitely Christmas Eve. For sure.)

“Frankie! Is that you? Look how much you’ve grown!” Nonna announced upon seeing him, looking up from the shrimp she was shelling. She smiled at him, and he smiled weakly back before settling himself on the floor by the fridge with the dog, Ricco. 

Frank’s grandfather smiled kindly at him, leaning down from where he leaned against the counter to pet Ricco’s head lovingly. “You know, Frankie,” he said in his soft, grumbly way, “Ricco hasn’t taken his walk yet. I’m sure he’d love it if you took him right now. Get him away from all the people. You know?” His grandmother nodded in agreement, tilting her head towards the hook that Ricco’s leash hung on pointedly. 

Frank had never loved his grandparents more than in that moment. He jumped up, grabbing the leash almost the second he was given permission. Ricco, sensing his impending walk, followed him, tail wagging in anticipation at the thought of leaving the house. Soon, they were out the garage door and down the street.

Unfortunately, what Frank didn’t think about was that, just like him, Gerard and Mikey were at their grandparents’ house for dinner. So he was happily trotting after Ricco with one earbud in his ear, singing shamelessly, when he heard Mikey’s call of, “Holy shit. Frank?” (Followed by Donna Way’s, “Language, Michael Way!”) He stopped abruptly, much to the chagrin of the dog, because, well, it would be rude to ignore the boy he considered his best friend.

He looked up slowly, eyes falling on Mikey, who was wearing a winter coat that didn’t quite fit him and staring at him with a bag full of presents in his arms. His hair was falling into his face behind his glasses. 

“Walk with me?” he asked, right hand still wrapped up in Ricco’s black leash. The black hair of his bangs fell into his eyes, and he blew it back, still watching as Mikey nodded and turned to carry the bag inside. He ran back out quickly, smiling awkwardly as he joined him. 

“You okay, Frank?” he asked, once they were a little way from the house and the people, when the dog decided to sniff around the base of a street light. Frank shrugged awkwardly, fingers of his left hand twisting up the edge of his sweater’s sleeve. He kept his eyes on the ground, teeth catching on his lip. 

“I’m good,” he mumbled, shrugging with a small, pathetic smile. Mikey narrowed his eyes, clearly not believing him.

“I’m only asking because you ran away from my brother,” he explained conversationally, as if their conversation was completely inconsequential. “And after that, you disappeared for two weeks with pretty much no trace. It’s a little worrisome, don’t you think?”

Frank shrugged again, feeling small and a little stupid. He hadn’t  _ meant  _ to avoid everyone. At first, he just needed a little space, and then a little turned into a lot, and eventually he had convinced himself that his friends didn’t  _ want  _ to hear from him, that they would be annoyed if he called them to talk or apologize or anything. So, he didn’t, struggling to keep himself afloat all alone. 

“I just needed to be alone,” he muttered, leaning down to pet Ricco. He tried to ignore the way his hands shook, stuffing the one that didn’t hold the leash into his pocket. Mikey narrowed his eyes, letting his flat-ironed bangs fall into his face. He shrugged awkwardly, kicking at a rock with his toe and smiling at the ground. 

“Well, when you don’t want to be alone,” he commented finally, glancing at Frank from under his hair, “let us know.”

Frank nodded sharply, letting the dog lead him through the cold. They walked in silence the rest of the way, and when they finally returned to Mikey’s grandparents’ home, they were cold, damp, and tired. Mikey said nothing before turning to jog up the snowy sidewalk, but he did pause and lean down to give Frank a tight, quick hug, before disappearing. Frank made Ricco walk faster down the street, afraid that Gerard would appear at the door to let his brother in and see him. That was a conversation he was really, really, not prepared to have.

* * *

 

Frank woke up screaming the day after Christmas. He sat up abruptly, unable to breathe, and curled into himself. His small, pale hands fisted in his hair, and his eyes squeezed shut in fear and alarm as he called for his mother with the strongest voice he could muster. His mother hurried into the room and flicked on the light, begging him to tell her what was wrong, but his throat refused to work, and he couldn’t find the words.

She hadn’t been there, in the car, she couldn’t understand.

* * *

 

Things had changed for Frank, very quickly. Too quickly.

Frank couldn’t get into the passenger side of the backseat anymore. He didn’t know why it was so difficult, but he fought a panic attack the entire time he rode on that side with his aunt and uncle and cousin.

He had panic attacks all the time. He wasn’t claustrophobic before, not really, but now he was. Any tight spaces put him back in the car, and he couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe again. He hated it. 

He wanted to die.

 

Wearing short sleeves was now impossible - too many scars.

* * *

 

He didn’t know why it hit him all of a sudden, but it did. He was just sitting on his bed, digging through a bag for something - he no longer remembers what it was - when he was back there. Mr. Bry- Bob’s father, is yelling at him again, and he’s suffocating, sobbing into his arms. His hands clasped over his ears as he sobbed.

“Let me out! I want out of the car! Please, just let me out of the car!” He begged, eyes shut tight against the image. When his mom finally came running in, his face was a mess of tears, hairs were poking from between his fingers from pulling on them too hard, and he was curled into a tight little ball on the very edge of his bed, a breath away from falling off.

She talked him down, away from car, panic lacing her words as she did.

Frank had a therapy appointment the next week, and a new, bright red emergency inhaler to carry with him everywhere, just in case. 

* * *

“Frank Anthony Iero,” Ray yelled, waking Frank up from his nap. The short boy looked up, bleary eyed, to find his friend glaring at him with all of the fury that was contained in his ‘fro.

“What the fuck, man?” he complained, pouting a little. “I was sleeping.”

“Two in the afternoon,” Ray snapped back, holding his phone up as proof. “You never sleep at two in the afternoon. And you never completely disappear for weeks on end. What’s going on, Frank?”

Frank groaned, pulling his pillow the pillow over his face and frowning. “You couldn’t have waited until school starts to tell me this?” he pouted, voice muffled by his pillow. Ray shook his head, pulling the thing away from Frank’s face.

“No, because it’s freaking me out,” he replied, settling on the edge of the bed. “You scare the crap out of us, do something that freaks Gee out on the way to my house and then ditch him, disappear off the face of the planet until Mikey sees you on Christmas, and you didn’t come to Pete’s crazy New Year’s party, which you totally had planned to go to… it’s weird Frank. Really weird.”

Frank’s face paled at the mention of Gerard. He hadn’t seen the older boy since the kiss, and he was way too embarrassed to even think about it. He’d pondered going to Mikey’s a couple of times, just to assure the kid he was alive, but Gee would be there. At Ray’s there was a high chance that the other older boy would be there, so he had avoided his house as well. Just the thought of talking to the older Way brother made Frank’s stomach twist with anxiety. 

His face paled even more when said Way brother walked into the room, shifting uncomfortably in the doorway. “Hey, um, your mom let me in,” he mumbled, running a hand through his hair.  

Ray looked between the two boys, then left the room, muttering something about “giving them privacy” as he pulled the door shut.

“Hi,” Frank sqeaked after several long minutes of awkward silence had passed. Gerard looked up from the floor, jumping at the smaller boy’s voice. He cleared his throat awkwardly, settling on the bed, in the space that Ray had vacated only minutes before.

“So we should… talk,” he said softly, looking up at Frank from under his hair. 

Frank nodded once, his fingers curling in on themselves into fists. “Probably,” he choked out, smiling at Gerard in way that was probably more of a grimace. They both remained silent for a moment before Gerard started speaking, words spilling out of his mouth as if he had rehearsed them before coming over.

“I don’t know if what happened meant anything to you, but it meant… it meant a lot to me. I’ve liked you for forever, Frankie, and if you don’t like me and that was a one-time thing, that’s cool. I’d completely understand, and we can forget I ever said anything. I mean, it probably was, because Mikes said you talked to him on Christmas Eve, and you didn’t even try to see me, and I get it but, yeah, please just let me down easy,” he said, staring resolutely over Frank’s head.

Frank’s heart felt like it was lodged in his throat. He coughed, as if that would help, and clenched his fists, digging his nails into his palms. Gerard noticed, and reached out, hands carefully prying Frank’s open. He finally, slowly, began to speak, closing his eyes so he didn’t have to look at the older boy as he spit out the words.

“I… I like you too,” he mumbled. “I was just… I was scared, and a little traumatized. The Bob thing… I can’t tell you what happened, but it was bad, Gee, it was really fucking bad. So bad that I keep having nightmares and I keep, you know, hurting myself, and some days I want to die really bad. When I… when I kissed you, I ran away because I didn’t want you to get involved in that. I didn’t think that you would… that you will… like me when you find out how fucked up I am.”

Gerard didn’t respond, just crushed him into a tight hug. “I’m sorry,” Frank whispered, biting his lip and forcing himself to breathe.

“Don’t be,” Gee replied, kissing the top of his head. 

Frank let out a deep breath, leaning into the hug. Maybe, he decided, things would be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Side note: I almost named this "Best Friends, Ex-Friends To the End" but I changed my mind about five seconds before posting.


End file.
